A Brief Interlude
by Chattybookworm
Summary: Companion piece to my friend's story "The Other Other Winchester," which should be read first. Another Apocalypse is just around the corner, and Dean and Lex's conversation could have gone very differently.


A Brief Interlude

Companion scene to "The Other Other Winchester" - please read first so that this all makes sense!

s/10655296/1/SuperSmall

Dean Winchester's week has just been getting better and better. They finally make it to middle-of-nowhere Smallville just to find out that, surprise-their parents had had another son. Not an illegitimate one like Adam, but an honest-to-God third child. A full-blood Winchester. Who apparently, was being raised on a farm in Kansas and who seemed to possess some choice, otherworldly powers. Because Dean's life wasn't weird enough already.

Not to mention Crowley showing up and shooting off his big mouth about friggin Lucifer and Michael crap, which Dean had sincerely hoped they had moved past by now. Apparently not.

So Sam had been left with Clark to bring him up to speed, while Cas was running interference between Crowley and the God Squad, so Dean figured it would be a good opportunity to make a little house call.

Or, as the case would be, a castle call.

Dean didn't care much for Lex Luthor, and he certainly didn't appreciate the fact that the man had consulted Chuck's books of all things in order to get information about them. But he had to be just a little impressed at the size of the mansion as he pulled up in the Impala. It was incredibly pretentious, but it felt fitting for a multi-billionaire such as Lex.

It was lucky that there was a butler or whatever at the door to greet him and point him towards Lex's office, because there was no way in hell that Dean would be able to navigate this labyrinth of a castle otherwise. The hallway was longer than he figured was really necessary, but he followed the sound of what appeared to be opera music coming from the room at the end.

The double doors were wide open, and Dean resisted the urge to whistle through his teeth. Lex's office was far from cluttered, though it did house an expensive looking pool table, several leather chairs, a large and ornate fireplace, bookshelves lining every wall, and finally a tall oak desk in front of the enormous domed window.

Dean stayed in the doorway, listening to the music. He had never been one for opera music-hard rock was where it was at-but something about this piece made him pause, a soft prickle of goosebumps rising on his arms, even under his thick jacket.

Lex Luthor was standing across the room with his back to the door, nursing a drink in one hand and his other resting in the pocket of his trousers as he watched the record spin. The opera music continued, gaining intensity as a male voice joined the female's and for a reason far beyond Dean's comprehension, he felt suddenly inexplicably sad.

"Sounds like she's in pain," he finally joked as a way to compensate as the singer's voice continued warbling.

Lex Luthor turned around, not reacting in the slightest to Dean sneaking up on him. "She is," he said politely, gently lifting the arm from the record, and the beautiful music abruptly ended, "La Traviata-it's the story of a young woman who has known nothing but pain and misery her entire life." Lex strolled casually and leaned against the side of his desk. "When she finally falls in love with the man of her dreams, the man's father refuses to give his consent and orders her to stay away from him."

"How does it end?" Dean asked before he could stop himself.

Lex smiled softly out of the corner of his mouth. "How do you think? Her lover doesn't reach her until it's too late, and she dies in his arms."

Dean cleared his throat and decided to finally step into the room. "Sounds like a real charmer," he said.

"The motif of thwarted love is universal." Lex regarded Dean thoughtfully, his blue-green eyes taking in Dean's jacket, plaid shirt, and defensive stance. "I would have thought you would know something about that, Dean Winchester."

Dean's mouth snapped open and then closed so quickly his jaw popped. The implications of Lex's words caught him off guard, and it was clear that that was Lex's intention. The young billionaire looked more than a little smug as he continued leaning against the desk, his dark purple dress shirt hanging free from the top two buttons-much in the same way that Cas had unbuttoned his shirt when Dean had told him to that one night in the car…

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean answered far too quickly, trying to blink the image of the blue-eyed, dark haired angel from his mind.

Lex looked amused. "I think you do. Don't forget, I did my research. And don't think I didn't notice the way you kept looking at your feathery trenchcoat friend the other day." He raised an elegant eyebrow. "If I didn't know better, Dean, I'd say you were pining."

The attitude was really getting on Dean's nerves. "Listen up, Baldy-if you wanna talk about pining, let's talk about your relationship with my little brother."

Lex blinked calmly at him. "I hardly know your brother, Dean, though I imagine that the more we work together-"

"I'm not talking about Sam, and you know it!" Dean growled, his patience waning and the original reason why he was visiting Lex in the first place resurfacing.

There was a soft clink as Lex placed his drink on the desk beside him. He looked Dean right in the eye as he answered. "I consider the Kent family to be friends of mine, though their opinion of me would likely differ."

Dean shook his head in annoyance. "I'm talking about _Clark_. _Specifically_."

Finally, a reaction. Lex's face remained passive, though his expression of indifference faltered for a fraction of a second. "Clark...has always been kind enough to believe in me when no one else would. You might not be aware of this, Dean, but my father doesn't exactly hold me in the highest esteem."

"Don't talk to me about crap fathers," Dean countered, stepping closer as he spoke, "my dad practically wrote the book! And I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for what he did to us, because God knows we're the most screwed up family on the planet."

"That's unfortunate," Lex agreed calmly, "but what does this have to do with-"

"I want you to stay away from Clark," Dean got right to the point, the memory of the other day playing in his mind. They had all been sitting around discussing plans of attack regarding the angels and demons situation. Admittedly, Lex had been helpful in giving suggestions, but spent more time than Dean would care to remember gazing at Clark with eyes far too soft for one who was staring at an underage boy. "I know your kind, and I know what you're up to-so just back the hell off."

Dean was pleased to see that he had finally appeared to have gotten under Lex's skin. He straightened himself to his full height, looking directly into Dean's eyes. "You seem to think I have no understanding of the situation," he said, his cool voice steadily rising heatedly, "when that is the farthest thing from the truth. I have never treated Clark inappropriately, nor do I have any intention of doing so. Although," he added with a smirk and a tilt of his head, "it's clear which side of the family he got his looks from."

"Watch yourself, Luthor," Dean growled, the air between them strained and stifling, his skin prickling again, but this time with the itch to lash out and punch the smug bastard in the face.

"Or what?" Lex challenged him, his once calm eyes now spitting fire. "You going to hit me, Dean? Use me to project your own repressed feelings upon? Because it looks to me like I struck a nerve."

There was a sharp crack as Dean's fist made contact with the side of Lex's face.

Lex let out a hissing breath as he stumbled slightly off balance, catching himself on the edge of the desk. Then he straightened, his tongue flickering out to graze along his split lower lip, where a thin trail of blood was slowly trickling off his chin and clinging to his exposed collarbone.

Dean watched, his breath rattling anxiously in his chest and his blood was beginning to boil, willing Lex to hit back. The snobby, bald, rich boy was really pushing his buttons, and Dean was spoiling for a fight.

"I've read all about you, Dean," Lex finally said, and before Dean could respond, he threw a punch of his own and landed it directly on Dean's cheek. "I'm not sure you quite live up to your reputation."

Pain exploded in his head, and sure enough, there was a shallow cut along his cheekbone. Lex ran his hand along his pant leg, cleaning his knuckles of Dean's blood. Dean surged forward, digging both hands into Lex's blood stained shirt lapel and pushing him forcefully backwards until his back hit the desk. "I'm gonna kick your ass, you son of a bitch," he promised with a snarl, a thrill racing through his veins as he stared at the resolute set of Lex's jaw and the way his light eyes darkened by the second.

"You're afraid," Lex taunted in a low rumble, his velvet voice taking on a rougher quality, and beginning to dangerously remind Dean of a certain someone. "You're afraid that I'm right about you, Dean. Because we're alike, you and I. We both want something we can never have." His breath was hot against Dean's pulsing cheek, and Dean hadn't realized until that moment how close they were standing. Lex broke eye contact to let his gaze wander to the firm set of Dean's mouth, hovering there for a long moment before bringing his eyes back up. The familiarity of such an action stirred something in Dean, something he had been trying so hard not to identify. "Except I'm not the one aiming outside my own species."

Dean's grip tightened in Lex's shirt, pulling the fabric tighter around his pale skin as he weighed his options. His vision was hazy, and there was a painful throbbing in Dean's body that he knew had nothing to do with his injured cheek. He swallowed hard in his all-too scratchy throat, lunged forward, and before he could think too hard on what he was about to do, crashed their lips together with bruising force.

Lex inhaled sharply at the sudden contact against his split lip, and he tasted his own blood in Dean's mouth. Dean's reaction wasn't altogether surprising, though Lex had briefly wondered if he was going to punch him again. It was a relief-Lex could fight if he had to, but he was no soldier.

_This_, on the other hand, was something that Lex knew well.

He bit down decisively on Dean's lower lip and pulled it into his own mouth, thrilling at the half-growl half-whimper that escaped the other man. Dean thrust his tongue suddenly down Lex's throat, taking him by surprise and causing Lex to wonder if maybe Dean had more experience in this area than he wanted to let on.

Very well, if that's how they were going to play it.

Lex brought both hands up and placed them on either side of Dean's throat, pulling their mouths apart abruptly. They were breathing raggedly, but Lex didn't have time to give Dean an opportunity to react-he used his grip on Dean's neck to steer him backwards, Dean putting up no resistance as his back solidly hit the bookcase to the right of the desk, several paperweights falling to the floor in the process.

Whatever misgivings Dean might have had at the start of their meeting had obviously gone in favor of the heated urgency that had taken hold of them both. He discarded his jacket before Lex even had a chance to rid him of it, but he allowed Lex to quickly and deftly unbutton his shirt, Dean's fingers suddenly trembling too much to do so himself.

Lex's breath caught as he pushed the plaid shirt from Dean's shoulders, taking in the firm musculature of the hunter's body, and it was easy to see now the kind of lifestyle that Dean had been bred for. He placed a hand on Dean's burning skin, raking his fingernails gently but insistently over the muscled pecs, the pad of his thumb catching on a hardened nipple.

Dean hissed through his teeth and his hands shot out, yanking Lex flush against his body, and Lex could barely hold back a moan when he felt how hard Dean was through the irritating denim of his jeans. He _was _going to take his time, trailing his tongue over the length of Dean's exposed chest, but he was far too anxious for that now. Lex's knee shot between Dean's legs, all but propping him against the bookcase as his fingers went to work on Dean's belt, yanking it off without ceremony and hauling the jeans to the floor. Lex met Dean's eyes once, watched in interest as the man's full pink lips hung slack as he breathed, and then sank immediately to his knees.

The bookcase shook as Dean grasped the shelf behind him with both hands as Lex took all of him, digging his long fingers into the indentations of Dean's hips to keep him steady. Dean was muttering something in a broken voice, something that sounded like a mixture of profanity and the choked off bits of a name, but Lex wasn't paying enough attention and frankly, he couldn't give a damn. He pulled his mouth away, leaving Dean flushed, panting, and still riddled with unfulfilled tension. He gave Dean an indulgent smirk and licked his lips mockingly.

And Dean reacted just as Lex hoped he would. He pushed Lex backwards, waiting until his back hit the side of the pool table before following, his powerful body pinning Lex to the side. Immediately, Dean's hands grabbed at the front of Lex's shirt and tore, ripping the shirt away from his chest as if it were no more than a flimsy napkin. Lex watched the way that Dean's eyes roamed hungrily over his body, as if it were something forbidden that he had never been allowed to crave until now. Lex bit the unbroken side of his lip with anticipation, and allowed Dean to grab one of his legs and pull it up to Dean's hip, rocking them together as Dean maneuvered Lex's body onto the flat surface of the pool table. Lex was never more thankful that the billiard balls had been moved to their glass case earlier that day.

The second Lex's bare back was flat against the scratchy green felt, Dean proceeded to rid Lex of his black trousers, throwing them across the room carelessly. There was fire burning under Lex's skin as the heat of Dean's body pinned him to the table, and he shot his hand out to take hold of Dean's hair and pull, forcing Dean's attention to the neglected skin of Lex's chest.

Dean didn't need to be told twice-those invitingly plump lips seized the long line of Lex's neck, his mouth and teeth working hungrily at his throat, and Lex couldn't stop the moan of pleasure and pain that tore its way out of his mouth. But it wasn't enough. His fingers, still entangled in Dean's hair, tightened their grip as Lex hooked his leg around Dean's middle and flipped them, Dean letting himself be put on his back while Lex took control, now the one hovering over the other.

Lex rocked his hips forward until Dean's legs were spread out on either side of him, and Lex looked down at the sweaty and writhing man beneath him. Dean was nearly begging for it, his gruff voice reduced to a whine as his hands latched onto Lex's hips and pulled him forward.

He was so hard it was actually painful...Lex blinked back the haze that was darkening his vision and aligned himself against Dean, who threw his head back against the table.

"I hope you know," Dean managed between breathy moans, sweat clinging to his hair and skin, "I really, _really _despise you."

Lex took a shaky breath as he said, "The feeling is mutual," before slamming into him.

They rocked together, hard and fast on the surface of the table, in a furious crescendo-Dean's unbridled aggression colliding with Lex's controlled elegance. Lex kept his grip tight in Dean's hair to keep his head down and immovable, and Dean alternated between running his hands over Lex's chest and pulling Lex's hips faster against him in a jagged and desperate rhythm.

Dean's eyes were pinched closed as he thrust his hips up, filling the almost nonexistent space between them with gasps and guttural cries, and Lex knew who he was imagining was on top of him. Lex, on the other hand, watched the heaving of Dean's chest muscles and remembered when he had seen a torso not dissimilar from this one, twisting and sweating in the hot summer sun as its owner hoisted a bale of hay to waist level. Lex's mouth dried, imagining that the hair between his fingers was pitch black instead of blond, the spattering of freckles across the nose being substituted for a pair of dimples on either side of a plump, innocent mouth. Lex groaned at the thought of that young man beneath him, a fantasy that could never be reality, and he felt a hot coiling in his abdomen that told him that he was close.

Dean must have also been nearing release, because his eyes (green, instead of the blue that Lex had almost been expecting) shot open and his hand went straight for his cock, both his and Lex's fingers fighting for control as they roughly jerked him off.

Lex came with a strangled shout and soon after, Dean's body seized up as well, the other man not making a single sound, but rather seeming to stop breathing altogether.

They remained motionless for a long second before Lex lifted himself up with shaky arms and rolled to the other side of Dean, gasping up at the ceiling as he waited for his heart rate to slow.

The world was fading back into focus, and as Lex began coming down, the gravity of the situation hit him full in the face. He watched as Dean pulled himself into a sitting position with a slight wince, a look of matching guilt and self-revulsion on his face, and Lex thought that at that moment, they understood each other better than ever.

Lex rolled himself off the table and shuffled to the pile of towels that were set up over by his workout station. He tossed one of them at Dean's face wordlessly, and Dean avoided his gaze as he caught it.

"It's a good thing my father was in Metropolis for the weekend," Lex finally said, his voice scratchy and husky from overuse. "I imagine he would have been in for quite a shock otherwise."

Dean flinched at the thought and got to his feet, grabbing his clothes from where they had been haphazardly tossed around the general vicinity. "This didn't happen," he said, his eyes still resolutely avoiding Lex's, "you understand? There's serious doomsday crap to deal with and I do not need to deal with this on top of everything."

Lex did understand, and knew that Dean truly had every intention of pretending that what had just transpired did not, in fact, transpire. He had broken whatever long-time rules he had set for himself, and Lex could see that the level of disgust that Dean had for himself had little or nothing to do with Lex and everything to do with a certain someone who Dean was forbidding himself to have feelings for.

And this too was something that Lex knew all too well.


End file.
